Running Gags And Collector's Cups
by Random42
Summary: Season two era CX (remember them?) fic. There's a big party in Sunnydale and of course everybody's going. (C/X)


Running Gags And Collector's Cups

by Random

***

Disclaimer:  "Buffy the Vampire Slayer" and all its characters are the property of Joss Whedon, Mutant Enemy, 20th Century Fox and the WB Network.  "Weekend" written by Ginger, published by Warner Chappel Music Ltd.

Summary:  This is my response to Amy's challenge.  It has to take place before WML PtII, someone has to wear leather pants, Willow or Buffy have to be in it, and Xander has to somehow be embarrassed.

Rating:  Weird.

Dedication:  For Michelle, because she said I was funny and she liked the other stuff that I've written.  And for all the detailed feedback.

Author's note: I haven't seen much season two since, well, season two (i.e. nothing taped) so some stuff may be wrong.  Bear with me.  And thanks to Ginger, Devin and Jason for all the music.

Feedback:  It's what keeps me writing.

* * *

_But at the weekend, well everything will be okay  
At the weekend I'll tell the world what for five long days I've been wanting to say_

_I wanna, I wanna, I wanna ride upon  
A five mile tide of surprise and oblivion  
Rain or shine, I'm waiting at the front line  
I need it, I need it like you would not believe it  
And I've dying to change my ways  
Coz I've been dry for five long days  
                "Weekend", The Wildhearts_

* * *

"Da-dadada-dadada," Xander sang happily as he walked down a dark Sunnydale street with a spring in his step.  "Da-da-da-dadada-dadada," he continued.

These were jovial times for the junior Harris, oh yes indeedeeo.  Happy times they were, because it was the weekend and he was on his way to a party.  And not just any party.  Oh no, this one promised to be the party to end all parties (although most parties bill themselves as such and then fall sadly short).  Everybody in the school had been invited and that meant he was invited too.

This wasn't going to be one of those parties where five guys would sit around a game of scrabble, drink Hawaiian punch and discuss which girls had recently turned them down.  This party was in the good part of town and it was going to be a rocking affair.  And it had been hinted to Xander that there might even be some rolling involved.

"Da-da-da-dadada-dadada," Xander dadadaed on, to a tune he had heard on the radio not too long ago.  Something to do with chocolate, but he had forgotten the lyrics very quickly.  The only things that stuck with him were the tune and the reference to his favorite food group.

When he rounded the corner and he first laid his eyes upon the house in which the party was being hosted he stopped dead in his tracks and stared with his mouth agape.  It was a thing of such utter beauty and majesty that it seemed to dwarf him and relegate him to complete insignificance.  It was like seeing the Milky Way for the first time or watching _Blade Runner in a movie theater._

The house was not a house, it was a mansion.  And said mansion was lit up in beautiful colors, streamers hung from the trees and a banner over the entrance to the backyard welcomed all guests.  Xander could hear the music thumping even from where he was standing.

After collecting his jaw from the sidewalk Xander approached the house.  He had a strange feeling that he knew this mansion, it seemed oddly familiar to him, but he shook that thought and continued for the entrance.

As he stood in the short line to get through the gate he recognized that this party was putting a principle into practice, a principle that was first advocated in the now legendary movie _PCU: "Play Metallica and they will come."  And come they did, from all corners of town._

"There's whisky in the jar-o," sang James Hetfield.

"Widdly-widdly-woo," went Kirk Hammet's guitar.

"Boom-ta-ta-boom," thumped Lars Ulrich's drums, making it sound more like the calypso stylings of the now legendary Harry Belafonte than Metallica.

Jason Newsted's bass made a far less interesting sound and was kind of buried in the mix anyway.

"Welcome," said the kid by the door as Xander came to the front of the line.  Xander knew him from school, but he didn't know the guy's name.  All Xander knew is that he was a senior with a big car and consequently must, at some point, have dated Cordelia.

"We ask of you a meek gift of five dollars," big car guy by the door said.  "You will get the official collector's cup of this event and have access to any beverage of your choice for the rest of the night."

"That seems very fair to me," Xander answered as he retrieved a fiver from his pocket and handed it over to big car guy.

"Thank you," big car guy thanked him.  "Say, are those leather pants you are wearing?" he added.

"No," Xander answered amidst much shaking of the head.  "I am wearing blue jeans."

"Ah," said the man with the expensive mode of transportation.  "And ah again."  He deposited Xander's five dollar bill in the cash drawer and waved the youth through the door.  "Please, step over to my associate James," he instructed Xander, "who will equip you with your collector's cup."

Xander stepped through the entrance and over to James, who turned out to be a bespectacled, long-haired fellow sporting a Hollow Chocolate Bunnies Of Death T-shirt.

"What color collector's cup would you like?" James asked.

"A blue one, please," Xander responded.

James handed Xander a plain blue plastic cup and a big black marker.

"This is a collector's cup?" Xander inquired incredulously.  "You can get these at the grocery store for thirty-nine cents a metric ton!"

"Yes, that is indeed true," James replied.  "But we would very much appreciate you writing your name on the cup with the marker.  The reasons behind this are twofold: First, it will prevent mix-ups with other people's cups, defusing and resolving any arguments as to which drink is whose.  Second, it will make the cup completely unique and therefore highly collectible."

That reasoning made sense to Xander and so he wrote his name on the side of his cup in big letters and returned the marker to James.

"You like Metallica, dude?" James asked.

"I'm not a big fan," Xander admitted.  "But I'd much rather listen to them than, say, Britney Spears."

"Wait a minute," James said, giving his brow a thorough ruffling.  "This party takes place before _What's My Line Part II which about places us in the latter half of 1997.  Britney Spears now is probably too young to walk or talk, much less have her breasts enlarged and record an album.  Your references are off!"_

"That is correct," Xander conceded, now seeing the error of his ways.  "I now see the error of my ways," he added unnecessarily.  Xander considered things for a moment or two.  "But wouldn't that also place us at a date before _Whisky In The Jar was released?"_

"That is correct also," James nodded.

Suddenly and out of nowhere the music and every single conversation at the party stopped and nobody seemed to move a muscle.  It was much like somebody had pressed pause on a VCR.

"Whoops, sorry," a faint voice could be heard saying.  "My bad."

And just as suddenly as everything had stopped the party raged on, now to a Metallica tune that Xander didn't recognize but he knew to be more appropriate for the time period.

"Can you point me in the general direction of the closest keg," Xander asked of James.

"There are so many here that you can't go five steps without falling over one."

"Thank you, I guess I'll manage to find one myself then."  Xander tipped his hat to James and wandered off into the backyard.  A remarkable feat indeed considering that Xander was not wearing a hat.

It was less than five steps before Xander fell over a keg and collapsed gracelessly in the grass.

"Watch it, man," admonished the guy manning the tap.

"My sincere apologies," Xander said quite embarrassed by his public display of clumsiness.  He quickly picked himself up off the floor and looked around, to see if anyone was pointing and laughing.  Then he did the obligatory dusting off of the clothes that everybody does after falling.  Finally Xander returned his attention to the man at the keg and held out his blue official collector's cup.  "Would you mind very much filling my cup?"

"Not at all, my hapless friend," the guy at the tap replied and then filled beer into Xander's proffered container.

After thanking the chap at the tap (a rhyme that Xander didn't find particularly creative or funny) Xander started walking amongst the people distributed liberally all over the backyard looking for his friends who had assured him they'd be in attendance.  Only after a good deal of wandering about the grounds did he fully realize how enormous this particular backyard was.  It was hard to miss the huge swimming pool, especially since it was half full with people who were making it their mission to get everybody not in the pool wet.  He had also passed tennis courts, a volleyball court, and what seemed to be the house's very own nine hole golf course.  This house was a posh affair indeed.

Finally Xander found his friends sitting on the stairs that led up to the patio at the back of the house.  Willow was scanning the crowd and a wide grin spread on her face when she saw Xander approaching.  Next to her Buffy and Angel seemed to be engrossed in some sort of conversation.  Buffy appeared to be trying to explain something, while the vampire's face was as blank as ever.

"Xander!" Willow shrieked in excitement nearly spilling her beer all over the slayer sitting next to her.  "Nice leather pants!" she added with what could only be described as a leer.

"Willow, my dear overexcited but shortsighted friend," Xander greeted as he sat down next to her.  "I will have you know that I am not wearing leather pants.  But how is the night going for you?"

"Quite well, thank you," the redhead grinned.

"What's with the distraught look on Buffy's face?" Xander asked.  "Nobody should look like that at a party like this."

"She is trying to explain the concept of fun to Angel," Willow shrugged.

"Ah!" Xander ahed.  "I've seen Buffy take on many a daunting task, but this one easily takes the cake."

"We have a request," said the DJ over the speaker system.  "Here's Cake for you."  And only seconds later the opening chords of _Sheep Go To Heaven rang across the backyard._

Xander scratched his chin and decided to ignore the coincidence.  "And how is she doing?" he inquired finally.

Willow leaned back and added, "Listen for yourself."

"… and you hang out and talk to your friends," Buffy was explaining, "and you have a few beers and loosen up and just have a good time.  You see?"

Angel seemed to mull over Buffy's words and then shook his head.

Buffy groaned in exasperation and turned to her newly arrived friend.  "Xander," she pleaded.  "You're the resident funny guy.  Can't you do something?  Love the leather pants, by the way."

Xander completely ignored Buffy's misreading of his wardrobe and considered the situation.  "I could try telling him a joke."

"Yes, try that!" Buffy said nodding eagerly.

Xander thought for a moment then cleared his throat.  "A man walks into a bar and says 'ouch!'" was what he came up with.  A rim shot was heard.  Three blank faces stared back at the would-be comedian.

"It's not working," Angel said.

"Sheep go to heaven," John McCrea, also known as Cake's lead singer, sang in the background, "goats go to hell."

"I resent that," said a passing goat, but nobody really paid any attention to it.

"I know," Xander exclaimed.  "I'll tell the joke again, only funnier!"

Three heads nodded in agreement.

Xander cleared his throat again.  "A man walks into a bar and says," dramatic pause,  "'Ouch!'"  A rim shot was again heard.

Willow and Buffy giggled at Xander's joke, Angel's expression remained unchanged.

The vampire shrugged and said, "Tell it again."

Xander waited for the two girls to stop giggling and concentrated.  "Ok," he said, "I'll tell it again.  This time _really  funny."  Three faces looked at him in expectation.  "A man walks into a bar and says," extended dramatic pause, "'OUCH!'"  Rim shot._

Buffy and Willow promptly collapsed in laughter.  There was much gasping for air and slapping of the knee.  Angel's face betrayed not even the hint of a beginning of a smile.  For minutes to come the mere mention of the word 'ouch' would send Buffy and Willow into spasms of laughter, while Angel brooded on.

"I don't know," Xander concluded when the girls had calmed themselves.  "Have you tried tickling him?"

Buffy nodded.  "No use."

"I don't get it," Angel mused.  "Spike is so good at being funny and entertaining."

"Yeah, but that's easy to explain," Xander answered.  "Spike's got a personality and a sense of humor.  You don't."

At that moment Oz walked up to the assembled group and said his greetings.  The four people perched on the stairs however stared back at him blankly.

"Oz," Willow finally asked.  "What are you doing here?"

"It's a party," Oz answered slightly befuddled.  "Aren't we gonna hang out?"

"Oz," Buffy explained, "This takes place before _What's My Line Part II. We don't know you yet!"_

"What?" Oz exclaimed bewildered by the information.  "So I don't get to be in this story at all?"

"I'm sorry, my laconic friend," Xander said apologetically.  "We didn't make the rules.  But we gotta go by them."

"Oh, great!" Oz sighed and walked away dejectedly.  Before he disappeared from the scene however he turned around and yelled, "You know, that scene with the joke was blatantly stolen from the cartoon _2 Stupid Dogs!"  Then he vanished from the scene until later episodes._

After a short uneasy silence Xander stood up and announced, "I think I'm gonna go get something to eat."

With that Xander took his leave and after making a pitstop at the chap at the tap (a rhyme for which Xander had developed no affinity in the meantime) he ventured into the mansion, in search of the buffet.  Of course he promptly got lost and it took him about fifteen minutes of taking random turns before he emerged in a sizeable sitting room that housed the large selection of food.  The food, much like the mansion, was a thing of beauty.  Laid out on a gigantic table was just about every food known to man.  All the basic food groups were present, except for desserts, which were on a separate, but similarly large table.

Only too late did Xander notice that his tongue was hanging out of his mouth as he salivated over the wide selection.  People had already taken notice and were doing the point and laugh bit again.  Xander quickly pulled his tongue back into his mouth but his face had already turned red in embarrassment.

He put down his blue official collector's cup, grabbed a plate and started indiscriminately piling food onto it.  "Can somebody pass the corn?" he asked when he was unable to reach the bowl due to a congestion of people in its vicinity.

"And Korn it is," said the DJ over the speakers and put on "A.D.I.D.A.S.".

Xander knitted his brow, retrieved his cup and sat down in a comfy chair to eat.

"Do you have to sit _here?" a not altogether unfamiliar voice said from next to him.  "I don't much care to watch you feed."_

"No one can open a conversation as smoothly as you, Cordelia," Xander said around a mouthful of shrimp.

"That's why people talk to me and shun conversation with you," the May Queen retorted.  "You know, I figured you'd be here, but I never dreamed that I would have to witness your table manners, or better yet, your lack thereof."

"You have a remarkable talent for making me lose my appetite.  I wonder whether it is your dull wit or your unrivaled status as intellectual bottom feeder."

"Yeah, right," she answered sarcastically.  "I'll see you in college, but only when you're delivering pizzas to my dorm."  To celebrate her verbal stab at Xander's pride she took a sip from her beer.  "Anyway, what's with the leather pants?"

"Nothing, I'm not wearing leather pants," Xander muttered spraying rice about his person.  "I think it's some sort of a running gag."

"Oh," Cordelia ohed.  "It's not a very funny one.  Anyway, as much as I enjoy destroying my social status by hanging around with you, I think I'm gonna go now."

"Oh, no," Xander said in mock sadness.  "Please stay, I was having so much fun.  No, wait, I only say that to people that I _like!  Buh-bye."_

As she stalked away Xander found himself staring at the quite impressive length of leg that Cordelia's short skirt revealed.  To prevent himself from drooling he stuffed a considerable amount of shrimp into his mouth.  He also shook his head for good measure to try and erase the mental image.

* * *

"Are you sure this is going to work?" Angel asked.

"Yes, yes," Xander reassured him, "Just relax and try to get used to the sensation."

As the night had worn on Buffy, Willow and Xander had repeatedly tried to make Angel laugh or at least smile, but nothing was able to change his ever stoic expression.  And, as more and more beverages of the alcoholic persuasion were consumed by non-vampiric contingent of the group, their plots to get the vampire to grin had become more and more outlandish.  Finally now they had resorted to putting toothpicks between his lips to turn the corners of his mouth upward.  They had gotten the idea from a _Simpsons Halloween episode, where Ned Flanders becomes the undisputed ruler of the world.  But that's another story altogether._

"That looks funny," Buffy giggled, slightly off balance.

"At least now he won't be able to bite anyone," Willow slurred.  Buffy, Xander and Willow collapsed in laughter as Angel looked on with his toothpick induced grin.

He finally removed the toothpicks from his mouth and tossed them aside.  "This is foolish," he remarked.

"Awwwww," the other three chorused.  "Don't be mad," Buffy said sticking out her bottom lip.  "It's all just in good fun."

"Yeah, now you know what fun feels like," Xander added.

"I think he's pouting," Willow remarked and the three collapsed in laughter again.

"I need a refill." Xander announced.  "Where are the refreshments?"  And with that he stumbled off.

"By request here are the Refreshments!" the DJ boomed and put on a song by the now legendary group from Tempe, Arizona.

* * *

Xander was walking back from the bathroom along a lengthy hallway when he ran into Ray, a kid Xander knew from one of his classes, who was exhibiting signs of considerable inebriation.

"Xander!" Ray said, putting one hand on Xander's shoulder to maintain his balance and using the other to wave his red official collector's cup under Xander's nose.  "You have got to try this.  This is the best."

Xander took a moment to examine the contents of the cup in front of him then looked Ray in the eyes.  "You are drinking a cup full of sugar, Ray," he said carefully.

"Sugar Ray?" Xander heard the DJ say from outside.  "What a great idea!  Here they are with _Fly."_

"Sugar, huh?" Ray muttered.  "No wonder it tastes so good!"  A strange expression then crossed his face.  "Xander, I think I'm gonna hurl."

"The bathroom is down the hall on the left," Xander advised him.

"You're a great friend, Xander," Ray slurred.  "I won't remember any of this tomorrow."  And with that Ray stumbled off down the hallway and took a wrong turn.  Shortly thereafter Xander heard some screaming and general commotion come from the room that Ray had just entered.  He dared not think about what might have happened.

Xander was thankful that he wasn't quite that drunk.  He continued on his way and ended up in an empty sitting room with the windows open so the music could pour in.  Empty that is except for Cordelia who was dancing by herself in the middle of the room with her yellow official collector's cup in her hand.

A big smile appeared on her face when she saw Xander walk in.  "Xander!" she exclaimed.  "My bestest enemy!"

"Cordelia," he replied.  "You changed.  You're wearing leather pants!"

"Yup," she nodded.  "Somebody had to put an end to that running gag.  I didn't think it was very funny at all."

"Me neither," Xander agreed.  "Do you think there's anything we can do about that running gag with the DJ?"

Cordelia shrugged in response.

Xander had a fairly hard time tearing his eyes away from her pants.

"Come dance with me," she beckoned.

Xander walked over and started doing one of his patented dances, careful though not to spill any of his beer.

"I just wanna fly," Cordelia sang along to the music.  "Put your arms around me, baby.  Put your arms around me, baby."  With that she took Xander's arms and draped them around her waist.  Xander felt as if he had turned to stone, he was barely able to move.  Then Cordelia started to slowly move against him and he relaxed and moved with her.

"Xander," Cordelia whispered.

"Auuhh?" is probably the best representation of the sound that he emitted.

"You're pretty when I'm drunk," she quoted the Bloodhound Gang.  The DJ seemed to miss that one and _Fly continued to play.  And Xander and Cordelia continued to dance._

Xander wasn't quite sure how to take that last comment.  Also his mind was hardly in working condition, due to the beer and the fact that he was holding Cordelia and actually starting to like it.  Like it a little too much for comfort.  So he decided to let it slide, she probably meant that when she drank she came out from all the bullshit she usually hid behind and was just her, Cordy the person, not the May Queen.  And so she could see him for the swell guy he was.

Or maybe he was just kidding himself and she meant it exactly how it sounded.

When the song was over they stopped rocking but didn't let go of each other.  Cordelia raised her head up and looked deep into Xander's eyes.

"Kiss me," she slurred.

And kiss they did.  Oh, yes indeedeedo.

* * *

The sun rose in the east on a beautiful Saturday morning and bathed the street in all its natural splendor.  The sky turned its usual deep blue and a few clouds chased each other across the firmament.  Lawnmowers, especially the tractor type (this was the good neighborhood after all), were fired up and driven across lawns, large breakfasts were cooked and consumed and televisions tuned in to the day's college football games.  Birds flew from tree to tree, chirped obscenities at each other in their respective birdie languages, and pooped on the heads of the unsuspecting passers-by.

"Knock, knock, knock," went a door.

Nothing happened.

"Knock, knock, knock," the door repeated, somewhat more insistently.

Nothing continued to happen.

"KNOCK, KNOCK, KNOCK," the door went, now definitely peeved.

Then something happened.  Something stirred.  Actually two somethings.  And then two pairs of eyes (all four of them bloodshot and unfocused) opened.  The eyes looked around the room frantically, darting from one detail to the other, trying to find something familiar to grasp on to.  Then the eyes turned and looked at each other.  Well, one pair looked at the other.  A ghastly silence fell over the whole scene, before it erupted in frantic screams.

"You!" said one voice accusingly, this one male.

"You!" the other voice retorted in an equally accusing tone, this one female.

I think by now you can guess who the eyes and the voices belong to so we can drop the charade and get on with the story.

Xander and Cordelia were lying on a bed, in each other's arms.  At least they were until they found out whose arms they were lying in.  Then there was a lot of screaming, shuffling, scrambling and general mayhem until they were both standing at opposite sides of the bed.

Cordelia was still wearing her leather pants and her bra, while Xander was only clothed in his boxers.

"What did you do to me?" Cordelia exclaimed.

"What did _I do?  What did __you do?" he screamed back._

"Oh, yeah, just blame it all on me, lust boy," she retorted.

"Hey!" he said somewhat hurt.  "We've got to calm down.  We have to figure out what happened.  Okay?"

"Okay," Cordelia answered amidst much nodding of the head.  She wrinkled her brow and tried to concentrate.  "I don't remember."

"Me neither," Xander admitted.  "Do you think we…?"

"What?" she asked.  Then it suddenly dawned on her what Xander was referring to.  "Ew," she recoiled.  "No!  Don't be disgusting!  Ew, ew, ew, ew, ew!  Besides I'm still wearing my pants.  Which is more than I can say for you.  Would you please retrieve your pants and put them on?"

"I can't find them," Xander yelled back.  "What did we do then, if we didn't do that thing."

"I think we kissed," Cordelia offered.

"Yeah, I think so too," Xander nodded.

A look of utter and complete disgust crossed Cordelia's face.  "And I think we made out."

"Ew!" they said in unison making an appropriate face.

Cordelia went into shock.  "It was the beer," she kept repeating to herself.  "It was only the beer."

"Would you pull yourself together and help me find my clothes," Xander exclaimed which brought her back to the here and now.

After a little while of rummaging Cordelia came up with them.  "I found them," she said handing Xander his blue jeans and his shirt.  Their hands touched and they lingered like that for a moment.  "Do you think if we were sober we would have done this?" Cordelia asked in a small voice.

"Cordelia?" a voice was heard through the door amidst repeated knocking.  "Is there somebody in your room with you?"

"Oh shit, it's Harmony!" Cordelia exclaimed and pulled her hand back.  "You have to get out!"

"Your room?" Xander asked.  "This is your place?"

"Yes, of course," Cordelia retorted.  "It was my party.  Now get out!  Jump from the patio!"

"What?" Xander exclaimed wide eyed.  "Your room is on the second floor!  And besides I'm not dressed yet."

"I don't care!" she screamed.  "Get out!"  And she pushed him onto the patio.

"I'll tell you one thing, missy."  Xander was now quite steamed.  "The only way I'd kiss you sober is if we were stuck in Buffy's basement, with… with…-" Xander was trying to come up with the most unlikely scenario, "with a salesman after us who can turn himself into worms!"

"Yeah, you wish," Cordelia shot back.  She then slammed the patio door, locking him out, and pulled the drapes shut.

Only short time later Xander could hear Cordelia open the other door to let Harmony in and the two started talking.

Xander felt terribly embarrassed as he hung from Cordelia's patio in his underwear.  Then he jumped down onto the grass below and started pulling his clothes on.  Only then did it dawn on him that he could have gotten dressed _first, then jump off the patio.  And he had lost his blue official collector's cup.  But he was too hung over to really care either way as he started his walk home.  Barefoot of course, because his shoes were still in Cordelia's bedroom._

***

THE END

Or is it just the beginning?


End file.
